


Bluepocalypse

by stupidinspaces



Category: Love Simon (2018), Simon vs. the Homo Sapiens Agenda - Becky Albertalli
Genre: Angst Not Treated Seriously, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, He’s trying really hard, M/M, Simon is frustrating, though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-10
Updated: 2018-04-10
Packaged: 2019-04-20 15:53:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14264457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stupidinspaces/pseuds/stupidinspaces
Summary: The internet mysteriously disappears. The news networks interview people who cry about their businesses losing money, about life savings going down the drain; top officials worrying about cyber security and the war on terror. Simon thinks the worst has already happened: he can’t talk to Blue.





	Bluepocalypse

**Author's Note:**

> We lost power island-wide and we had a three hour class with flashlights. Simon still thinks he has it worse, however.

“This is nice,” Simon’s mom says. “None of my kids itching to get to their laptops, their phones…” She trails off and smiles to herself.

Normally, Simon would be freaking happy with whatever is making his mom happy, but not in this case. Not when the thing making her happy is what’s making him miserable. And he is, in fact, still itching to get to his phone, if only to refresh his browser obsessively. 

“We weren’t that bad,” Nora protests, half-chewing on her broccoli, and then contradicts herself half a second later when she says, “And now we’re just glued to the TV instead, so…”

Simon pushes around the spaghetti on his plate; he doesn’t really feel like eating. It’s Day 22 without the internet. He would know the count of days even without the news stations’ daily announcements; He keeps his own tally, except his is counting how many days he hasn’t been able to log onto Gmail. 

The news networks say the internet disappeared due to “unknown circumstances.” The effects are worldwide and even though life goes on, nations are in hysterics. It’s what’s been on the front page of every newspaper every day. They’re running the story non-stop, 24/7. There’s never been as many reported government conspiracy theories and claimed UFO sightings. 

They interview people who cry about their businesses losing money, about life savings going down the drain; top officials worrying about cyber security and the war on terror. Simon thinks the worst has already happened: he can’t talk to Blue.

Simon calls it the Bluepocalypse.

His mom raises an eyebrow when she sees Simon fiddling with his fork. “Simon, stop playing with your food.”

“I had a big lunch,” he says. 

On the other side of the table, his dad smiles at him indulgently. He seems to think it’s hilarious that Simon needs a longer adjustment period before he can stop thinking about wifi.

It’s not so much wifi, and more about Blue, and how there’s no other way of contacting him without freaking wifi.

After dinner, they watch Bachelorette reruns. Simon spends most of it refreshing his Gmail on the phone, but no matter how many times he does so, he still gets the same error page: “Safari cannot open the page because your iPhone is not connected to the internet.” He’s about two finger widths close to throwing his phone across the room, and he’s not even a violent person towards his iPhone. 

To rub salt in the wound, he can’t even access Blue’s previous emails. If he’d known the internet would one day disappear, he would have copy-pasted all of them on a Word document.

He wonders if Blue already got over his “adjustment period” from not talking to Jacques.

“I need some air,” he says to the room, but they’re all too preoccupied guessing who’s going to get a rose that they barely wave him off.

Simon grabs his jacket but defiantly puts on his pair of Converse shoes instead of the warmer boots his mom insists he wear. Fall is transitioning into winter. Normally, this would be his favorite time of year, but it’s been nothing but depressing so far. 

He takes a walk around the neighborhood, avoiding the shady red house in the corner, which is rumored to be a meth lab. Before he realizes it, he’s at Nick’s doorstep. He rings the doorbell and waits half a minute until Nick himself opens the door.

“Hey, man, what’s up?” Nick says, chewing on some chips. Simon looks at the bag in Nick’s hand. Vinegar flavor. 

“Nothing. What are you up to?”

Nick shrugs, running down to the basement, Simon following. “Just video games. My parents are out having dinner. Anniversary.”

“Oh.” Simon has been friends with Nick for over a decade now and still doesn’t know significant facts about his friend, though in this case it’s details about his parents so maybe it doesn’t actually count. He’s willing to bet that Blue would know these things about his friends, though.

“What are you playing?” he settles down on the carpet next to his friend. 

“Call of Duty.”

He shoots a text message to his mom, “At Nick’s. Be home before curfew.”

The bubble turns green, iMessage no longer in service.

He only vaguely pays attention to Nick filling him in on the story of the game, watching him finish missions and do seemingly logical stuff; he nods at all the appropriate places but his mind is elsewhere.

If only he’d gotten Blue’s phone number before Day 1. 

-

-

Simon burrows in bed for another ten minutes after his alarm sounds before getting up, which is becoming harder and harder to do as the temparature keeps dropping. He turns up the heat and takes a shower, but not before checking if the internet is working. It’s not. Day 26. 

He swears that once the Bluepocalypse is over, he will freaking refuse no for an answer when Blue says he doesn’t want to meet or even text. He’s never going to take their emails for granted ever again.

He gets to school ten minutes early, the hallways busy with students only half awake. There was apparently a big party at Garrett’s the night before that Simon didn’t go to. Simon can’t bring himself to regret it, not when Blue probably didn’t attend anyway. 

Being at school is frustrating, but it’s frustrating for reasons other than the usual student distate for being forced to learn. It’s frustrating that half of the student population could be Blue, but he wouldn’t know the first step in finding out if a guy is Blue or not. 

He’s distracted in all of his classes, checking every guy to see if Blue’s sending out a subliminal message somehow. 

His heart aches thinking about Blue and how Blue could be missing him, too. How maybe he can’t handle the separation either, and is actively looking for Jacques. But how the hell would Simon know? 

Blue could literally be right in front of him, and he would have no way of knowing. 

“Simon!” Simon snaps to attention. It’s Bram Greenfeld, of the cute hands and soccer calves. 

“Wha-?” he asks intelligently.

“I said, can I have some fries?” Bram flashes his teeth at him in an exaggerated smile. He looks especially good today, in an unbuttoned blue polo shirt over a plain white t-shirt. 

Simon looks down at his fries. He does want to eat some more, but it feels more important that Bram enjoys them instead. He pushes the whole plate over to Bram’s side of the table. 

“I thought this no-internet thing would get us out of writing this long-ass research paper, but Mr. Wise just wants us to use book sources instead…” Nick is complaining, waving his sandwich around. 

“What would Mr. Wise know about not having internet, it’s not like he was in high school when they only had pinball games on computers,” Abby says, playfully sarcastic, but Nick looks shame-faced all the same. 

Leah mutters, “Times have changed.”

Yesterday, when it was just her and Simon, Leah had complained in length about people who complained about having no internet. She claimed having no internet access is only good for morale, so Simon knows she’s just being contrary.

Abby doesn’t take the bait. She just smiles sweetly at Leah and keeps eating her sandwich. Simon watches the frown deepen on Leah’s face.

“I think this whole no-internet thing is not so bad, actually,” Garrett says, significantly. “If you’re resourceful enough, you can find replacement for any website in specialized stores.”

There’s a beat of silence before the whole table erupts in protest and uncomfortable laughter. Porn. He’s talking about porn.

Bram rolls his eyes, meeting Simon’s. Simon’s heart skips a beat. 

No matter how douchey Garrett is, he does have a point. So, how did people find their clandestine boyfriends pre-internet?

\- 

-

Simon thinks he’s not completely clueless about his friends after all, because he’s pretty much predicted their actions to a tee: 

Abby is in squealing excitement, Leah is pissed she didn’t find out first but is extremely supportive, and Nick is stoked but cool about it. 

Simon thinks it should be fine if he tells his friends about Blue. Not talking about him and not being able to read his emails is slowly driving him insane. He needs someone else to validate that Blue is real. And maybe they can even help him find Blue; he remembers every significant fact about Blue at least.

“So, why ‘Jacques’?” Nick asks, just as Garrett and Bram are taking their seats at the table. Simon almost wants to warn Nick to keep quiet about Blue while they’re there, but he figures they’ll be cool about it since they’ve been surprisingly fine with the gay thing after Martin outed him via the Tumblr at the start of the school year. If only the internet had been down before that happened.

“You know, ‘Jacques a dit’? It’s ‘Simon says’ in French.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Garrett asks, swearing when he tips his glass and spills a little bit of juice on the table. 

Abby looks to Simon before answering, “Oh, just Simon’s mysterious internet boyfriend.” 

Bram develops a hacking cough. “Sorry,” he says, “food went down- wrong pipe.” Garrett pats him in the back. “Simon has an internet boyfriend?”

Abby sighs, a little dramatically, “Isn’t it romantic? They found each other online months ago, but they both don’t know who the other is. They’ve been using code names.”

“Simon only knows this guy as ‘Blue’. We’re going to find out who he is,” Leah says, sipping her drink.

“Right,” Bram says, staring at Simon so intently that Simon starts to feel self-conscious. His face feels like it’s on fire.

“Thanks for the support, guys,” Simon mumbles. Hearing other people describe his love life is both incredibly exciting and embarrassing.

“So, tell us about ‘Blue’,” Abby says.

Bram stands up abruptly, “Oh crap. Uh, I forgot. Something. In the gym. I’ll be right back,” he takes off with his lunch.

Nick stares at Bram’s retreating back and then at Garrett. Garrett only shrugs. 

“Anyway,” Abby says, grinning. “From the beginning.”

-

-

Simon approaches his locker with trepidation. There’s a plastic bag hanging from it. It’s been weeks since the jocks had gotten bored with actively bullying him, but this no-internet thing must be a low point. 

But when Simon opens it, it’s not sweaty jockstraps inside, there’s only a bluegreen construction note, an Elliott Smith t-shirt under it. 

He reads the note first, heart racing. 

“Jacques, We were driving through Savannah when I came across this t-shirt at a small kiosk. Thinking of you and the concerts we have yet to attend.”

Blue.

Simon almost wants to collapse in relief. Blue has somehow found him.

“What you got there, Simon?” It’s Abby, coming to walk with him to English class. 

“Blue,” he says, voice full of wonder. “He got me a t-shirt…”

Abby grins, cheeks pink. “Aww, Simon… So wait, he knows who you are...?” 

“Yeah, guess so…” He tucks the note carefully in between the pages of his English notebook. Blue would like that, he thinks.

Abby grabs his arm, but she’s not walking him to Mr. Wise’s classroom. They’re heading to the male restrooms. “I think you should wear it,” she says and before he can protest, she shoves him in the direction of the door. 

Simon does put it on, in one of the least smelliest stalls. It fits perfectly, but he still feels self-conscious walking around in it, wearing a gift from Blue in plain sight of everybody. It’s weird and exciting. He keeps close watch of every guy’s reaction to him wearing it, but most barely give him a second glance. 

When they get to the classroom, Mr. Wise takes no consideration that there is a limit to how fast they can write by hand, speeding through his lecture. 

Bram Greenfeld doesn’t seem to be as concerned. 

“Is there something on my face?” Simon says, self-conscious as always whenever Bram pays him significant attention. Bram has been staring at him the past five minutes. 

“Oh, no, sorry,” Bram says. “I wasn’t staring at you, I was staring through you…”

“Right.” Simon has never seen Bram’s face this red before, but he imagines his face is the same way. Bram is nothing short of adorable, he thinks.

Aside from Bram, there’s no other guy in their class that even bothers looking at him. He sighs. He would just have to keep looking.

\- 

-

Simon pulls Abby aside during rehearsals, dragging her behind the stage, standing close together in the cramped room. She smells like cinnamon. 

“I know who Blue is,” Simon says. 

“You do?” She looks as excited as Simon feels on the inside. 

He nods. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it before.”

She squeezes his arm enough to hurt, but he doesn’t mind. He kinda needs to confirm he’s not dreaming anyway. “It’s,” he lowers his voice to a whisper though he knows there’s no one else around, “Cal Price.”

Abby squeals before asking, “How did you find out?” 

Simon grins, feeling ridiculous. “He’s commented on the shirt twice. He asked about other music I like. Says we should go to a concert together. That’s kind of what Blue said, right before…” 

Simon pauses, swallowing. The loss of the internet is something like a big tragedy that is sometimes still too difficult to acknowledge out loud. 

“...And he’s wearing a bluegreen shirt. That’s his email, bluegreen.”

Abby’s eyes soften. “I’m so happy for you, Simon.” 

After rehearsals, Simon lingers while Cal packs up his instruments. Cal’s bangs are awesome.

“So,” Simon says, when there’s only Ms. Albright left in the room with them. “I guess I should thank you for the shirt.”

“What?” Cal says, and Simon’s brain skids to a halt. 

“The shirt?” he gestures to himself. Cal continues to look blank. “You didn’t--?”

“Oh. No?” Cal says, “I was about to ask you where you found it, actually.”

“You’re not Blue,” Simon says, hollowly. 

“Uhm, no,” Cal says. He sounds like he wants to know more, but Simon is not volunteering any more information. 

“Okay, great, good to know,” he tries for a brief smile, but he feels _nauseated_. He speed walks to his car and texts Abby, “Not Cal” and just drives.

-

-

“Where’s Garrett?” Nick asks Bram during lunch. 

It’s Day 28 of no internet, Day 28 of the Bluepocalypse.

“Garrett’s texted me that he’s at this festival. It’s probably for his parents’ anniversary,” Bram says. He looks especially good today, Simon thinks, which is something he seems to think about Bram Greenfeld almost every day. It’s nothing special that he’s wearing, just that he seems happy and glowy. If only he wasn’t straight.

“Oh okay, Brad can take over his spot for today’s trials then,” Nick says. He’s been promoted soccer captain this school year. 

Bram shrugs. “Sounds good.” 

Apparently they’re done with their soccer planning because Nick turns to Simon, eyebrows raised. “What’s up with you, Simon? No offense, but you look like shit today.”

Abby turns to Nick, slapping his arm. “Insensitive, Nick! Simon just went through something horrible yesterday.”

Simon laments that Cute Bram Greenfeld is here to hear about his embarrassment.

Abby turns to Leah. “Simon thought Blue was Cal. He asked him yesterday and Cal said it’s not him.”

Leah looks a little miffed that Abby has to explain this to her. She looks accusingly at Simon. 

But Simon couldn’t give less of a shit at the moment. Cal is not Blue, and Blue is yet to be found. And Cute Bram Greenfeld gets to hear of his embarrassing affairs. 

“I’ll get over it,” Simon says. But only if he finds Blue.

Simon risks a glance at Bram to see what he thinks about this, but he’s only staring at his lunch, fiddling with his fork. He still looks especially good, but not as happy and glowy.

“You’ll find him,” Nick says confidently. He nudges Bram with his elbow. “Right, Bram?”

Bram looks up at that, glancing at Simon before staring back at his plate. “Right,” he says.

He doesn’t sound very confident, Simon thinks. Simon can’t blame him, he isn’t feeling very optimistic at this point either. 

-

-

Day 55 of no internet. Day 55 of not talking to Blue.

There’s been no more notes, no t-shirts, or any other communication. Simon thought the Bluepocalypse couldn’t get any worse, but every minute just keeps proving him wrong. He’s slowly going crazy; blue seems to be a really popular color to wear, and the school newspaper is becoming a more and more attractive place to seek out Blue. 

He prays to all the gods he doesn’t believe in to bring back the freaking internet. He’s about to march to D.C. himself.

Apparently Simon’s been going crazy faster than he thought, or he’d been sending out enough negativity into the universe that Nick feels compelled to corner him on the way to English.

“Hey, so you said Blue is super smart and really good at English, right?” Nick says.

“Yeah,” Simon says.

“So, he would probably be in AP English, right?”

“Right.” Simon internally gives his forehead a smack. Why didn’t he think of that?

“He would probably be one of the best students in our class,” Nick says, significantly.

Simon runs through the list of top English students in his head: Alicia, Megan, Bram…

“And get this,” Nick puts both hands on Simon’s shoulders, “Bram came out to the soccer team two months ago.”

Simon stares at him.

Nick nods, maintaining eye contact. “You’re my best friend, Simon, but you’re in way over your head with this mystery, dude.”

-

-

Cute Bram Greenfeld has a mole at the back of his neck. That’s pretty much all Simon learns in the one hour of English class. That, and that he can basically recall every word and significant look they’ve ever shared. Looking back, Simon realizes how faulty his logic really is. 

Mr. Wise ends class with a warning that the material of today’s lecture will be a significant portion of the upcoming exam. Simon sighs. He would just have to ask Abby or Nick for their notes later. 

Or, even better, he can ask Bram for his notes.

“Hey, Bram,” he says, as Bram finishes packing his bag. From the corner of his eye, he sees Nick give him the thumbs up before leaving the room.

“Hey, Simon…” Bram says. He looks tired, and apprehensive about having to talk to Simon.

Bram Greenfeld as Blue. It should be too good to be true, but Simon still has the audacity to ask, “Can I have your phone number?” 

I need your notes, he could justify it with, but what he says instead is, “It really sucked losing the internet, I couldn’t talk to you anymore.”

He watches Bram carefully, how his eyes widen slightly, how his lips part in surprise. 

Simon is surprised himself that, judging from Bram’s reaction, he’s actually found the answer to Blue’s identity. Surprised and profoundly grateful. Thank goodness for friends like Nick. 

“I’m sorry I couldn’t figure it out earlier,” I’m an idiot not to see what was right in front of me, he could admit, but he doesn’t want to make himself look too bad in front of _The_ boy. “It just seemed too good to be true. That it could be you.”

Bram smiles, a little disbelievingly, shaking his head. 

But Simon can’t be too bad at this romance thing, because Bram says, “Yeah,” and then more softly, “you can have my number.” 

Bram looks especially good today, too. But Simon’s finally figured it out. He can’t help but think so because he’s in love with him.

-

-

What would have been Day 119 of no internet: the internet mysteriously returns. Simon only knows because of the news reports. And he only knows about the news reports because of social science class. He’d stopped keeping track, his own tally having ended at Day 55 when the Bluepocalypse ended in the best way possible. 

Getting the internet back isn’t as big of a deal for him as it is for others. The mass influx of users have led to servers crashing left and right, leading to speculations of “No Net 2.0” - or so the news reports. Simon wouldn’t know from experience, he hasn’t been on the internet since the first day of no internet - 123 days ago. And he wouldn’t really care much if the internet did choose to disappear again for some reason. Aside from writing research papers, he won’t really need to use it anymore.


End file.
